


Wild, the Demolitionist

by cerame



Series: Heist AU [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bombs, Explosions, Gen, Heist AU, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Minor Violence, Scars, being delirious for a bit, finding a body on the side of the road, rated teen for safeties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerame/pseuds/cerame
Summary: Once upon a time, the Chain's pyromaniacal demolitionist had a calm, content life. He had friends, a stable job, a family.So what, exactly, happened?(Hint: things tend to change when you make hard decisions)
Series: Heist AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777966
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	Wild, the Demolitionist

Link Kempe enjoyed demolitions. He also happened to work in security. These two things did not mix well, so he hid away the former and focused on the latter.

Despite being unable to pursue his love of explosions, he was, quite frankly, a prodigy in security. During training, he stopped talking and learned how to hide his emotions. As such, he looked less like a human and more like a stone golem, which happened to be exactly what most people wanted from hired security. Despite his small frame, he excelled in hand-to-hand combat, and when it came to aim, he outclassed even the older, more-experienced shooters. He earned a reputation quickly amongst his peers, but he didn’t make friends with any of them until he went to work at Hateno Tech Labs.

(There was one other guy who rivaled Link during training--a charismatic ex-soldier who rose quickly through the ranks. Something went unprofessional on a job under a curator of the local museum, the details of which were not released, and he was disgraced. He disappeared a few days later. Link didn’t particularly care. It’s not like he knew the guy. He didn’t even know his name.)

His coworkers were… nice. He liked them. He particularly liked the ever-cheery Purah and the cool-grandpa-type guy Robbie. The head of the lab, Zelda Flora Bosphoramus, was his top priority for protection, though her cold demeanor made things a little difficult between them at first, blaming her father for thinking she needed a personal bodyguard. Thankfully, she had warmed up to him since. His coworkers were Mipha Fischer, Revali Falcon, Daruk Mason, and Urbosa Queen. Mipha was a redhead with soft words and a softer heart he had known from childhood. Revali was their age, but Link was fairly certain that Revali held contempt for him, considering his endless well of snark and salt. Daruk, meanwhile, was a warm, boisterous man who didn’t know his own strength, and Urbosa acted like a mother to them all, though she was utterly terrifying when angered.

Link liked Mipha. She was kind, pretty, smart, and a badass when given a weapon. She was always ready with a first aid kit to patch him up if he got hurt during training sessions, and her voice was always soft and warm. Her younger brother Sidon occasionally visited the lab. He was energetic, loud, and significantly taller than Mipha, but he had the same gentle gestures and kind soul as his sister.

Link was comfortable. He had a job, he kept his skills sharp with training, he had friends, and his family was safe. That was all he could ask for.

Well, maybe he’d like a date with Mipha, but that didn’t really count, did it?

“I just can’t figure it out!” Zelda huffed, setting the statuette back down. “It generates a power of its own that we can barely detect, and we can’t even find a way to harness it. It’s like it doesn’t exist, even though scans show it _does_! There _has_ to be a way.”

“If anyone can figure it out, it’s you, little bird,” Urbosa said. Her confident voice was as soothing as ever.

While Link and the other security--jokingly called the champions by the scientists--were just security guards, there was more to them than that. Each of them were intelligent in their own right, and they were sometimes consulted in the lab. While the scientists were smart, they often forgot that there are simple solutions to things. One time, when the microwave broke, they tried to heat water with a laser and somehow blew up a pineapple in the process. No one knew where they got the pineapple from, not even the scientists. Apparently, there was not supposed to be a pineapple in the building at all at the time of the incident. Anyhow, after the champions asked them why they didn’t just use a bunsen burner, the scientists began to ask them for advice on things. A look from the outside made things clearer sometimes, after all.

“Not to sound like I put stock in magic or anything as nonsensical as that,” Revali said, “but if ancient people really did use it for rituals, they must have done something to be able to use its power. Maybe a priestess or a specific item?”

“If I may, modern day witches just try to focus energy,” Mipha said softly. “They think about their intent and focus on it, I think. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”

“That’s not very scientific,” Daruk pointed out. Then, he shrugged. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

Zelda’s eyes flickered over to Link. He simply gave a small nod. She sighed.

“I suppose I could put more research into ancient rituals,” she muttered.

“Tomorrow,” Urbosa said.

“What?” Zelda protested. “But it’s only 1am, and I’m so _close_ to a breakthrough. I can _feel_ it!”

“You need sleep, and so do we,” Urbosa said, not unkindly.

“I _would_ rather like to sleep tonight,” Mipha admitted quietly. Revali and Daruk voiced their agreement.

Link, as usual, stayed silent. He, admittedly, _would_ like sleep, but he’d stay up if Zelda did. It was his duty to protect her and the lab, after all.

Zelda bit her lip, looking at each of them individually, then sighed. Urbosa smiled softly, and Zelda let the older woman take her by the shoulders and gently lead her to the door. Daruk grinned fondly, and Revali gave a relieved sigh. Link thought he should get more sleep. The bags under Revali’s eyes were getting more noticeable every day. He took his job seriously. Link went to follow them, but a hand tugged at his sleeve. He looked back to see Mipha, pink dusting her cheeks.

“Link,” she said, looking away from his face. Vaguely, Link thought that maybe sleep deprivation gave her an extra boost of courage. For what exactly, he didn’t know. He didn’t think on it any further. Mipha was talking, after all. “If you’d like to, this weekend--um, I-I mean, if you’re free, would you… would you like to--”

Alarms screamed from their speakers, piercing their ears. Link spun around, eyes snapping to the open lab door with wide eyes. He bolted, Mipha close behind him. He needed to make sure Zelda was ok. They ran after their companions only to bump into someone when they turned the corner. Link pulled his gun on them out of instinct.

“Link, Mipha!”

 _Zelda_.

“There are people with weapons,” Zelda said with short breaths. “I think they’re after the research. We need to keep it from them.” She inhaled shakily. “Urbosa, Daruk, and Revali are holding them off, but--”

“I’ll get Miss Bosphoramus to the escape tunnels,” Mipha said firmly. “Link, go get the statuette.”

Link hesitated but nodded, and he watched Zelda and Mipha run down the hallway. He looked back to where he could hear a firefight, then turned around and booked it back to the lab. However, as he passed by the armory, he skidded to a stop.

Maybe he should stock up.

Just in case.

* * *

Zelda Flora Bosphoramus was scared. Her heart pounded in her chest, blood rushed through her ears, every step sent a jolt through her leg--that one guy had gotten a lucky shot.

She ran with Mipha toward the escape tunnel. Zelda had reviewed and edited the blueprints of the facility countless times, and she had personally overseen the installation of the steel door that would close permanently over the entrance to the tunnel when the code was punched into the number pad. It should be a good defense. No one would be able to get to them without a damn good bomb--

“Link!” Mipha gasped.

She turned to see Link running toward them from a side hall, blood running down his right arm. He had a remote in one hand and his gun in the other.

“Where’s the statuette?” she demanded. “The research?”

Link, catching his breath, patted his chest, then held up the remote. Zelda didn’t know what that meant, but at the end of the hall Link had come from was a figure and shouting and gunfire. Link and Mipha pushed Zelda to keep running.

They were gaining. Whoever was here, whatever they wanted, they were catching up to the three of them.

“I’ll hold them off,” Mipha said, a small smile gracing her face. “Buy you some time.”

“Mipha--” Zelda breathed. Link, for once, was showing emotions, and Zelda felt her heart pang in grief for him. He was so… There were no words for it. “Distraught” simply didn’t cut it.

“Go,” she said, her voice soft but final. Link didn’t nod as he usually did, but he took Zelda by the hand and ran.

Somewhere, deep down, Zelda felt that she and Link were the only ones who could survive this. Everyone was or would be gone. Her throat constricted and her eyes stung, but she bit the inside of her cheek because she couldn’t risk breaking down here, not while there was still danger.

They turned the corner, and _there_. There it was--the entrance to the tunnel. Zelda ran inside, her chest heaving with the exertion. In hindsight, maybe the escape tunnel should’ve been closer to the lab. She slowed to a stop, then went to the number pad on the wall.

“Come on, Link,” she said.

There were no footsteps. Confused, she looked up. Link stood just outside the entrance to the tunnel.

“Link?”

He shook his head, and just behind him, just around the corner, the attackers arrived. Zelda realized what he was doing a second too late. Link reached over to the number pad on the outside of the tunnel.

“Link, no!” she screamed.

The steel doors fell. Through the quickly closing gap, she saw Link face the attackers, holding up the remote he had been holding. Then, the gap closed, the lock clicked, and Zelda fell against the cold, hard metal.

A loud boom sounded from beyond the door, shaking the foundations of the facility, and then everything fell silent.

Zelda Flora Bosphoramus curled up into a ball and sobbed. In one night, she had lost everything and everyone. She sat, alone, on the stone floor in a dim tunnel, the remnants--the blood and ashes and rubble--of her life locked behind a thick layer of steel.

She did what any reasonable human would do in such a situation.

She mourned.

* * *

Eyelids slowly fluttered open, a numb hand coming up to rub the crust from his uncomfortably clumped eyelashes. Shaky limbs propped him up so he was sitting on his elbows--he was a him, right? Yeah, that sounded right.

He slowly sat up, wincing at the soreness in his _everything_ and the horrible burning sensation on his left side. He could figure out what the pain was later. It was all right.

He giggled at his own joke. All _right_. Haha.

He decided he was probably delirious.

Who was he?

The center of his chest felt warm.

He slowly stood up. Walls crumbled around him, and burn marks scorched the floor. It might have been tile, once. Debris laid around him, the missing roof exposing him to the sun and open air. In front of him sat a collection of large, burnt… somethings. He felt sick over it for some reason, so he turned around only to see a slab of metal, ash streaked across it.

It kind of looked like he was standing in the middle of an explosion of some sort.

His left side felt gross and warm and sticky. He could feel his heartbeat through it.

Ew, gross. He decided to ignore it.

He looked around, skipping past the burnt things on the floor, then went over to the crumbled wall to the left. He hefted himself over the side and looked out at the plains before him and the city in the distance. He could see a road a couple miles off. Maybe he could get a ride.

Where?

He thought for a moment. Maybe a police station or a hospital. He should tell someone about this. Maybe. Or maybe not. Were explosions legal?

Did he have a family? He probably had a home. Maybe. Probably. He didn’t know anything about himself. He stopped, waves of shock rolling through him. He… He couldn’t remember anything. Did he have parents? Siblings? Did he have friends? What was his favorite food? What allergies did he have? Did he have a loud sneeze or a kitten sneeze? Did he like cats or dogs?

What was his name?

_“Link, no!”_

He jolted at the voice. He looked around and didn’t see anyone. Odd. The voice was kind of nice. It was a woman, and she had a soothing accent. Something nagged at him that the voice was talking to him. Was his name Link?

Link.

…

Huh. He didn’t mind the name. It kind of fit, somehow.

So he was “Link”. That was one obstacle out of the way.

He--no, Link. _Link_ continued walking. His arm hurt. His mind wandered. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t dig up any memories. It was like reading a book on who he was, kind of. There was some information, but he couldn’t remember the events behind the information. He decided he liked both dogs and cats, but he kind of wanted one of those big dogs, like a shepherd or a husky or something. Maybe not a husky. Those threw temper tantrums, and he thinks that maybe he would scream back at the dog, and no one needed that. He also liked food, sweet foods in particular. He could probably cook.

His stomach grumbled. He was hungry… and thirsty, now that he thought about it. Ugh, why did he have to realize that? Now his mouth felt horribly dry and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He realized his mouth tasted like soot and ash.

How long had he been passed out in a medical condition he didn’t want to think about? Either he didn’t take care of himself well, or the answer to his question was “too long”. Maybe both. He didn’t know.

Link kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

It felt like an eternity. Time blended together--minutes into seconds, seconds into hours. At some point, he began to limp and stumble. His vision grew blurry, and he didn’t know when, but suddenly, he realized he could barely see past the explosions of darkness and color across his vision.

He needed to make it to the road. He _needed_ help, and he knew it.

His toes caught on the heel of his other foot. He panicked as he fell, reflexes too slow to catch himself. His forearms just barely came up in time to cushion his fall, but his cheek--the not-sticky one--hit the dirt hard. His vision darkened, and his eyelids grew heavy.

But the road…

Ah. There was the asphalt, mere yards away.

Ok. That was fine.

He let himself fade into the sweet release of unconsciousness just as the rumble of an engine approached.

* * *

Twilight was coming home from a grocery run, his hands clamped around the steering wheel and his eyes tracing the road in front of him, but his mind wandered elsewhere.

He had finally gotten the true story of his parents a few days ago. His father really was Time, the conqueror of Majora and child criminal prodigy. He didn’t believe in the whole magic thing with the gemstones until his dad had shown him the ocarina and made it rain. The forecast had claimed sunny skies for the next two days, and yet, that afternoon, the sky clouded over, and rain fell from the heavens. Proof of magic alone was mind-boggling as it was, but it got worse.

In the most awkward way possible, his parents sat down with him and asked if he’d be up for more crime. He remembered the shock that rocked him when they asked, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the rush. He was _good_ at it, if his time with _her_ said anything about his skills. But… he had been raised with a certain morality.

He needed time to think it over. They gave it to him without question.

There was a body on the side of the road.

Wait, what?

 _Oh shit there was a body on the side of the road_.

Twilight hit the breaks. The door was open before he had fully stopped, but he did take the time to put the truck in park before getting out. He carefully nudged the body with his foot to check for traps. When none went off, he cautiously knelt down and put his fingers to the body’s neck… oh, good, they were alive.

He rolled the body over, and a gasp escaped him. Angry, red scars marred this person--this _boy’s_ left side, and the ends of his hair were scorched. His clothes, which looked somewhat like a uniform, were tattered and burnt, revealing more scars.

Twilight made a decision. It might have been a stupid one, but he felt it was the right thing to do. He picked up the kid, put him in the passenger seat, and buckled him up.

* * *

“Wha--”

“Yer awake--hey, hey, lay back down. Yer hurt. You need to rest.”

“I… ok, but who are you? Where am I?”

“Yer at Lon Lon Ranch. You can call me Twilight. Now, who’re you, and why in Hylia’s good name were you on the side of the road?”

“I… can’t remember. But I think… I think my name is Link.”

* * *

Bonus:

Time calmly sipped at his coffee as an explosion rocked the yard. The chickens, thank goddesses, were on the other side of the farm, and the horses were on the far end, so they wouldn't be bothered too much by the explosions. Malon simply sighed and shook her head as her son groaned and dropped his head onto the kitchen table.

“Go get your brother before he disturbs the goats,” she said.

Twilight groaned again, louder this time, but still, he tugged on his boots and stood up to make his way outside. Time and Malon listened to the sweet sounds of yelling, then panicked screaming. Then, the goats started screaming. As in in response, the boys’ own screaming got louder. The couple looked at each other before they broke out into laughter.

Time and Malon had been concerned when their son dragged home a boy covered in scars, but when the boy called himself Link, helped out on the farm and in the kitchen, and didn’t see a problem with them doing crime, they realized he might not be such a bad housemate. When they gave him access to the shed that served as their armory, Wild--a fitting nickname, all things considered--proved himself to be adept with demolitions, despite his amnesia.

Their little crew could certainly use a demolitionist.

It looked like he would fit right in.


End file.
